I have romanticized Wolves for most of my life as mystical creatures. I have pictures of them on my walls. Feeling pain and anger hearing of wolves hunted for pelts or fun. I have always felt they were kindred spirits and seeing them, an omen of good fortune to come.

Until a pair coming through my land and tried to eat my little dog. Less than fifty feet from me two of the most beautiful creatures attacked my latest rescue Porthos. Of course that was after he went charging directly at them.

A loving little Beagle with the heart and bravery of a St Bernard sized dog. He has become a part of my family. I will protect my own.

The beagle barely escaped certain death. Ducking into a  12 ” culvert full of water,  still baying a warning to all that there was a danger.

I was standing by with my Winchester 3030. Eye on scope, after a snipers breath squeezed the trigger, this time a warning, a loud reminder that these two “shall not pass”. Both suddenly stopping and spinning around in one frantic movement they dashed off into the woods.

So you know I earned the designation of a marksman in my days in the military, I rarely miss. I could not shoot them.

I had hoped it would be a permanent message to the two intruders, hell-bent on eating my friends, some eight cats and two dogs, that were now my immediate family.

Two days later they were back again sending my little dog into the confines of the culvert. They had ducked into a neighbors quarter section of land. It was not safe to shoot in that direction.

Canada Day I return home from spending a great day enjoying the celebrations. Tired from the drive and time spent in the sun watching magicians, jugglers, and a variety of other performers, and learning about my current potential date.

I came home was ready for sleep, then I heard the haunting howls coming from the back of my land. I grabbed my 3030 a handful of bullets and a knife meant for ending the suffering of a  wounded opponent. If they needed to be killed they would not suffer.

As I started out my Beagle was walking down the driveway. I needed to think of a way to keep the dog safe while I went out to the arena to meet my two four-legged foes.

I grabbed the dog’s thirty-foot cable, fastened one end around my waist and the other on the proud little hunter, down the dirt road we went, the three musketeers. My little dog, my big dog,  me and my rifle.

We fed mosquitoes bloody and bloated along the way while I took some time to train the little dog to stay by my side while we hunted the cat eaters. Not to safeguard my life but his.

He was a quick study. I am sure part by fear, part loyalty. The little dog stayed at my side ready to warn of imminent attack pausing from time to time to sniff and listen.

The hunting trip was without incident. The howling now just a chilling memory, the pair of wolves gone.

The expedition came to an end. Will I  ever kill the wolves I hoped not. I would rather find a way for everyone to live in harmony. Sometimes that is not possible. So I spoke out at the two and made a pact “never again hurt my animals, and I will not end you” They never have bothered my animals since. They have joined the others, my Yard moose, the deer, the foxes, even the coyotes seem to take the long way around my little acreage.

What has this to do with building a Tiny House? Not a fookin thing. This is just another day in the life of a builder.

Take care